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“No! no! no!” cried the child, clinging to the saucer, and attempting to remove it out of his mother’s reach. This he did so suddenly, that the entire contents were thrown into Mrs. Little’s lap.

“Bless me, Mrs. Little!” exclaimed Mrs. Pelby, really distressed; “that is too bad! Come, Henry, you must go away from the table;” at the same time attempting to remove him. But he cried–

“No! no! no!” so loud, that she was constrained to desist.

“There, let him sit; he won’t do so any more,” said Mr. Pelby. “That was very naughty, Henry. Come, now, if you want your tea, drink it, or let me put it away.”

Henry already knew enough of his father to be convinced that when he spoke in a certain low, emphatic tone, he was in earnest; and so he very quietly put his mouth down to his saucer and pretended to drink, though it would have been as strange as pouring water into a full cup without overflowing it, as for him to have let any more go down his throat, without spilling a portion already there out at the top.

Tea was at last over, and Mrs. Little, on rising from the table, had opportunity and leisure to examine her beautiful silk, now worn for the second time. Fortunately, it was of a colour that tea would not injure, although it was by no means pleasant to have a whole front breadth completely saturated. Mrs. Pelby made many apologies, but Mr. Pelby called it a “family accident,” and one of a kind that married people were so familiar with, as scarcely to be annoyed by them.

“Come here, Henry,” said he. “Just see what you have done! Now go kiss the lady, and say, ‘I’m sorry.'”

The little fellow’s eye brightened, and going up to Mrs. Little, he pouted out his cherry lips, and, as she kissed him, he said, with a suddenly-assumed demure, penitent look–“I torry.”

“What’s Henry sorry for?” asked Mrs. Little, instantly softening towards the child, and taking him on her knee.

“I torry,” he repeated, but in a much livelier tone, at the same time that he clambered up and stood in her lap, with his little hands again crushing her beautiful French collar.

“Come here, Henry,” said Mr. Manly, who saw that Mrs. Little was annoyed at this; but Henry would not move. He had espied a comb in Mrs. Little’s head, and had just laid violent hands upon it, threatening every moment to flood that lady’s neck and shoulders with her own dishevelled tresses.

“Come and see my watch,” said Mr. Manly.

This was enough. Henry slid from Mrs. Little’s lap instantly, and in the next minute was seated on Mr. Manly’s knee, examining that gentleman’s time-keeper. Between opening and shutting the watch, holding it first to his own and then to Mr. Manly’s ear, Henry spent full a quarter of an hour. Even that considerate, kind-hearted gentleman’s patience began to be impaired, and he could not help thinking that his friend, Mr. Pelby, ought to be thoughtful enough to relieve him. Once or twice he made a movement to replace the watch in his pocket, but this was instantly perceived and as promptly resisted. The little fellow had an instinctive perception that Mr. Manly did not wish him to have the watch, and for that very reason retained possession of it long beyond the time that he would have done if it had been fully relinquished to him.

At last he tired of the glittering toy, and returned to annoy Mrs. Little; but she was saved by the appearance of a servant with fruit and cakes.

“Dim me cake! dim me cake!” cried Henry, seizing hold of the servant’s clothes, and pulling her so suddenly as almost to cause her to let fall the tray that was in her hands.

To keep the peace, Henry was helped first of all to a slice of pound-cake.

“Mo’ cake,” he said, in a moment or two after, unable to articulate with any degree of distinctness, for his mouth was so full that each cheek stood out, and his lips essayed in vain to close over the abundant supply within. Another piece was given, and this disappeared as quickly. Then he wanted an apple, and as soon as he got one, he cried for a second and a third. Then–